Tinker Tailor Soldier Sailor Rich Man Poor Man Beggar Man Thief (4:38)
True Love Waits (5:08)
Review: There was naturally much excitement when A Moon Shaped Pool, Radiohead's surprise ninth studio set, popped up on streaming and download services back in May. Here it gets a CD release, offering those who prefer physical products a chance to bathe in its' woozy eccentricities. Seen by some as a return to their arty rock roots following an extended period spend exploring electronics, the album's 11 tracks draw on a variety of influences (krautrock, ambient, Pavement, James Blake, Stockhausen, intense melancholia etc.), with predictably impressive results. Occasionally elegant, string-laden and grandiose, always beautiful, and sometimes intensely moving, A Moon Shaped Pool is undeniably up there with the band's best work.
Review: Now pushing a terrifying fifty-five years into their career, one would be forgiven for thinking there would be precious few tricks up the sleeves of the so-called 'Strollin' Bones'. Yet they've confounded expectations by not only returning to their blues roots but in delivering their best record in at least half that stretch. Who knows whether the grit and raunch that originally inspired the ingrates back in the early-'60s has infused these readings with a timeless charge, or whether the band chemistry has simply been re-ignited by this old-as-the-hills yet fresh-as-a-daisy approach. All we can tell is that Keith and Ron's guitars have rarely sounded as sharp, nor the band this electrifying this century, and the 73-year-old Mick Jagger in 2016 has the strut and self-possession of a man one third his age.
Review: Royal Blood's debut was a smash hit, and its globe-conquering success notably hasn't led them to make an avant-jazz record for this follow-up, nor to stray too far from the amp-abusing template it set out. Nor indeed does this record live up to its title, despite spending much of its 35-minute duration chronicling the downfall of a relationship, Nonetheless, the Brightonian duo remain possessed of testosterone-driven power and brass-knuckle boisterousness to slay ten lesser bands, and 'How Did We Get so Dark?' is another masterclass in the creation of riffs big enough to fill a canyon.